


Risky bet

by pockettreatpete



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Fluff, Just... so fluffy, Like the unicorn Agnes got in 'Despicable Me' fluffy, M/M, Pour water on it and it just collapses, otp: wait that's my word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 12:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20675558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pockettreatpete/pseuds/pockettreatpete
Summary: A quiet moment on a plane may change the trajectory of Chasten's life.





	Risky bet

**Author's Note:**

> Okay will people stop yelling at me for ruining their emotional stability now? HERE IS FLUFF I HAVE PROVIDED FOR YOU.

Chasten is half-way through _Pitch Perfect 2_ on the in-flight entertainment when Peter reaches over and touches his arm. The cabin is pretty much fully cloaked in that strange twilight that is as close to darkness as it can get, save for the odd wash of dim orange light where someone is reading and some faces here and there tinted blue from lit-up screens. 

Chasten has trouble sleeping on planes, but Peter is not similarly afflicted. He was sleeping earlier, but Chasten’s been aware for a while that Peter has been watching him, studying his face, his hands. He hasn’t said anything because he kind of loves the way Peter looks at him, like he’s the most amazing work of art Peter has ever seen. If Peter could paint, he might paint Chasten a hundred times over and that thought never fails to send a thrill up Chasten’s spine. 

When Peter’s hand lands on his arm, Chasten pauses the movie and takes off his headphones, meeting his boyfriend’s eyes. He can’t help but smile. Peter smiles back in that way he does when he thinks he has a good idea. He speaks softly, barely above a whisper.

“Move in with me,” he says.

Chasten almost laughs, but only almost, because they’ve had this conversation. Well, more accurately, they _didn’t_ have this conversation. For all the times through late November and early December that he dropped hints about his lease being up soon, making a show of surfing around on Zillow, Peter never once took the bait. A week before Christmas Chasten just slightly bitterly signed the lease on a new place thirteen blocks over from his old one and started packing. He knows, _knows_, that he could have brought up the conversation instead of trying to hint, but he is not perfect, okay? There are things he can do and things he can’t, and initiating the “I think I should move in with you”-conversation is very much on the list of things he _can’t_ do. 

“I just signed the lease on the new place three weeks ago,” he replies, smiling softly at his still sleepy boyfriend. 

“I know. Break the lease and come live with me,” Peter counters.

Chasten laughs, and turns more fully towards Peter, who sits up a little more and meets his eyes.

“I kept hinting,” Chasten says, trying to make sure his body language doesn’t make it seem like an accusation. “I thought you didn’t want it, but did you just not get it?”

Peter breaks eye contact, swallows, looks down at his lap. “I got it. I…” He looks back up at Chasten. “I guess I was scared? It felt kind of fast.” 

Chasten nods. Peter hasn’t dated a lot of, he reminds himself, but moving in after four months doesn’t strike Chasten as very fast-paced. It’s not _slow_, exactly, but not fast. But Peter… Peter actually hasn’t lived with anyone, not since college and dorms don’t count. So it makes sense, honestly, that this is a big deal to him. It’s not like it’s a small deal for Chasten, either, because he has a creeping sense that if he moves to South Bend now, he’s not moving back to Chicago for a long time, maybe _ever_. This could be it. Over the past few weeks, over Christmas and this little vacation (and oh God he has a boyfriend who takes him on four-day getaways to Europe between Christmas and New Year’s and how lucky could he really get?), he’s started to imagine a whole life with Peter and while he doesn’t dare to believe it yet, the possibilities take his breath away a little when he allows himself to think about them. 

“So what changed?” He’s still smiling, tries to keep his voice light, but knowing Peter _did_ get all those hints and didn’t do anything is actually kind of a little upsetting.

“Everything,” Peter says reverently. “Meeting your parents, Christmas, this trip. I’ve just realized I’d be crazy not to try to keep you as close to me as possible.”

Chasten isn’t too proud to admit he tears up at that, just a little. 

“Yes, I will move in with you.” 

Peter’s smile grows and he leans in to plant a kiss on Chasten’s lips. He uses his thumb to gently wipe away the couple of tears that have escaped. It’s a simple, even clichéd, gesture, but Chasten feels so taken care of, so _loved_, that he wants to fall into Peter’s arms and stay there forever.

“I’m sorry,” Peter says. “I never meant to make you feel like…” He pauses, searches for words. “Like I didn’t want us to move forward. Like there wasn’t space for you in my life. There is.” He laughs quietly. “Sometimes I feel like there’s nothing in my life but space that needs to be filled by you. Yes,” he adds immediately with an eye roll and an amused smile when Chasten’s eyebrows fly up, “I heard that and I still said it and I trusted you to be mature about it because I’m being very sincere right now.” 

“That was a risky bet,” Chasten says, going in for another kiss. 

“You’re a risky bet,” Peter replies. “I’m still worried you’re going to find someone younger and better in grad school and break my heart.” 

Chasten knows, he _knows_ Peter is joking, but he still has to swallow twice before answering painfully earnestly: “I won’t. I’m a safe bet. We’re a safe bet.” 

Something lights up in Peter’s eyes. “You think so?” He looks kind of proud, like Chasten has solved a puzzle Peter didn’t expect him to get. 

“Yes.” 

His back hurts from sitting sideways so he turns to sit right in his seat, but leans into Peter and their heads rest against each other. They sit quietly for a long time, holding hands and breathing together. 

“Hey,” he whispers into the darkness after a while. “You’re paying my lease break fee. And the outstanding rent.” 

He can hear the smile in Peter’s voice when he replies. “I know.”


End file.
